


dignity

by HeartHarps



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romeo and Juliet Fusion, Angst, M/M, Minor Rachel Berry/Finn Hudson, Violence, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-12 22:57:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14737389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartHarps/pseuds/HeartHarps
Summary: Two households, both alike in dignity,In fair Lima, where we lay our scene,From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.Shots are fired, texts are sent, songs are sung...And dignity is defended.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote 13k words of this in 2014. I came back to it a couple times, and now I decided it deserved an ending. I felt my soul leave my body as I typed 'Glee' into the fandom designation box.
> 
> When flashbacks are used, real-time text is regular and flashback text is in italics.

A shiver ran down Kurt's spine as he passed the Westerville sign. He was in Warbler territory now. He shifted in the driver’s seat of the unfamiliar truck, his gun pressing closer to his hip. Kurt was alone. The static from the radio as it jumped between stations wasn’t helping his nerves, but he was too distracted to change it. The channel finally began to favor the Westerville broadcast, but it still wouldn’t stop buzzing. Kurt took a deep breath and quickly checked his hair in the rearview mirror.

Kurt was heading to Dalton Academy, home of the Warblers, the meanest, most ruthless show choir in all of midwest Ohio.  Rumor had it that they'd found a new member, who was going to take them all the way to Nationals.

As the newest member of the Warblers' arch enemy, the New Directions, it was Kurt's responsibility to scope out the competition.

He'd been a part of the William McKinley Glee Club's revival last year when he was a sophomore, but he quit when the male lead Finn recruited Puck, Mike, and Matt. Something had changed, something  in their attitude. It wasn’t about 'opening up to joy,' safety, or camaraderie anymore . Kurt didn’t even make it to a competition.  It hadn't been until a couple weeks after the New Directions’ loss to the Warblers at Sectionals that Kurt noticed the real change: Energetic, peppy Rachel, bright-eyed Tina, even optimistic Artie’s smiles grew icy, and their eyes glinted with malice. Kurt watched his only real connection to them, his close friend Mercedes, turn into a mysterious shadow. 

He hadn’t found out what had happened until his dad announced his engagement to none other than Finn’s mother, Carole. Kurt had been inducted into the Glee Club that summer, given a New Directions jean jacket (which he was instantly mad about), some training, and a blood oath to take or be disowned. Well, it wasn’t quite that dramatic.

But Show Choir was deadly serious now. Finn and company quit the football team and threw away their college scholarship prospects in order to be in the dorky, infamous Glee Club. Quinn, Santana and Brittany were kicked off the Cheerios for poor attendance, which was due to Glee Club engagements. Rachel practically reintroduced herself to Kurt as sister-in-law, married to Finn. (They weren't married.) (They weren't even dating.) The Club had never been so diverse and popular, yet at the same time, it had never been worse.

So, out of the new members—the ones who hadn’t been seen at Sectionals last year, for they would be recognized—Kurt had been deemed the most qualified to infiltrate the enemy school. So he was given the truck, the gun (not that he didn’t have his own at home), and a disguise. Kurt would be just a random face, unable to be connected back to anyone dangerous, a shadow, a ghost. It was a foolproof plan, really.

Right?

Twenty minutes later, Kurt was clutching his bag closed, right over where his gun sat inside his Dalton Academy jacket. He speed-walked down the hall, jumping at the sight of any sparse student.

They were looking at him. 

He'd been doing well. He'd only made a short exchange…

 

_ “Oh, excuse me.” He picked a random stranger.  _ Don’t be nervous. Be normal _ , Kurt thought. “Um, Hi. Can I ask you a question? I-I’m new here.”  _

_ But when the stranger turned around, Kurt couldn’t help feeling like this person was not random. Not normal.  _

_ “My name’s Blaine,” he said, offering a hand. _

_Kurt took it. “Kurt.”_ _He breathed as he felt the flow of students continuing to brush past Blaine. He said, “So, what exactly is going on?”_

_ “The Warblers!” Blaine answered immediately, and Kurt should have guessed that they were royalty in their own school. “Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons...Tends to shut the school up for a while.” _

_ Kurt was thoroughly impressed. But he played dumb. “So wait, Glee club here is kind of cool?” _

_ “The Warblers are like rock stars.” _

_ Kurt’s blood suddenly boiled, but he feigned it off as surprise. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Never.  _

_ “Come on, I know a shortcut,” Blaine said, grabbing Kurt’s hand. _

 

“Hey!”

Kurt didn’t even turn. He buckled down even harder on his bag and sprinted the rest of the hallway, trying to remember where he’d parked the truck. Pounding footsteps ensued. 

Kurt was screwed. 

 

_ Kurt was screwed. He was being led into an abandoned hallway by a member of the Warblers! They probably already knew he was a spy and were planning to kill him. _

_ But as he ran, guided by the warm, strong hand of Blaine, he couldn’t help but notice the beauty in the walls, the windows, the unnaturally fancy decor for a high school, and… _

 

A running Warbler turned into Kurt’s hallway and came right at him, so he backpedaled a few steps and headed down an empty hallway to his right. 

“He’s a New Direction!”

“What?”

“Go!”

 

_ Blaine. Blaine was beautiful, Kurt decided.  _

_ And he hadn’t even heard him sing yet. _

 

His options were running out. The hallway in front of him turned definitely to the right, and if someone was coming from there, he’d be done for…

 

_ A good 4.6 seconds into the song, Kurt knew. Knew he was screwed, knew who the secret weapon was, and knew they were good enough to make the New Directions ancient history. _

_ Because Blaine was singing lead, and he was beautiful, and he was amazing.  _

_ And then he saw two pairs of Warbler eyes go from each other, to him, and back again.  _

_ Kurt left. _

 

“Hey.” Suddenly a soft voice appeared from around the corner to the right. A smiling Blaine. Gelled, black hair, handsome, round face, and uniform. Kurt slid to a stop, hearing others come up from behind him. He was done. He was screwed. “Wait,” Blaine said, stepping into the hallway, “Wait.”

Out of breath Warblers drifted into Kurt’s peripherals. They slowed, and formed a loose circle around Kurt.  “You want to…?” One of them asked, trying not to sound out of breath.

“Yeah, I can take him,” Blaine said.

There was a moment. Kurt stared Blaine down. Neither flinched. The Warblers waited, gauged the risk of leaving their brand new golden boy alone with...Kurt. They probably didn’t even know he had a gun. To the Warblers, Kurt probably looked like a little boy lost in a department store. He focused on breathing. Blaine maintained his look of confidence and nonchalance.

The same one who’d spoken nodded, and the excess students cleared out, heading into the room from which Kurt assumed Blaine had come. 

_ Training, instinct, triggers _ , Kurt remembered, were the three tools to get him through any fight. He fought to calm his heart rate. He couldn’t believe this. Blaine must have been a sophomore...and here he was taking on the enemy spy alone? 

Once Blaine broke their eye contact and glanced back at the shutting door, Kurt acted. He drew his gun and released the safety so fluidly, he might as have been made of water. Kurt saw Blaine’s smile perk up with the click of his gun, but his eyes remained fixed on the door, only his profile visible.

“Oh, Kurt…” He said, slowly looking back to him, raising his hands. Kurt swallowed. “A school shooting would be such a shame.” 

Students walked by the end of the hallway to Kurt’s back, and he flinched at the sound of their voices. Before he even knew what was happening, his hands were tensing around the gun because Blaine had managed to draw his own.

“I’m Finn Hudson’s brother. You don’t want to do that.”

“I thought it was  _ step _ brother?”

“You did your research.”

“I had to know what I was getting into.”

“Doesn’t mean you can  _ take _ me.”

“You don’t know me.”

“As you me." Kurt saw Blaine's stance, saw his too-close feet, his too-high elbows, his dangerously squared hips. A death pose. Blaine had little to no idea what he was doing. "Put it down, it’s probably empty.” Kurt concluded, and watched Blaine readjust, reinforce. “When’d you get it? This morning? Yesterday? I tried to pull one on Puck, assuming you know him, and he laughed for days. He was the one who gave it to me. Now, stop your games, and I’ll leave in peace.”

Blaine suddenly swung his gun away from Kurt, and shot a nearby window. The volume was suddenly turned way up, in a symphony of high pitched, cacophonous jingling. Kurt’s body seized, from his knees through his belly button, and all the way up to his displeased ears. Finn broke a window once. It hadn’t been nearly as impressive-sounding as this Dalton floor-to-ceiling giant. Now, the whole school around Kurt seemed to freeze as the glass settled on the floor. 

And what Kurt saw out that window made his heart stop.

Blaine reloaded his gun nonchalantly. "Admin just kind of...ignore it now. Clean it up." He raised it again, steely. His eyes looked unnatural. They were filled with malice of his head, not his heart. "And we walk free."

Kurt felt the sweat slipping over his fingers, the gun.

"Why'd you come here?" Blaine finally asked.

Kurt just smiled slyly. "To see you." 

Blaine didn't know what to say to that. In his moment of slight confusion, Kurt winked, lowered his stiff aim to the floor, and shot Blaine in the foot. He began to block the sound of the groan from his mind before it was even released. Kurt hopped through the broken window and ran to his truck a few feet away.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hell to the no!" Mercedes screamed, bursting into the boys' mash-off meeting. "What were you thinking?" she demanded, smacking Finn upside the head. 

"Ow." 

Puck started in anger towards her. "Oh no way—" 

"No, stop." Finn restrained him with a single hand. Puck was stockier than doughy giant Finn, with a much lesser BMI. But Finn was tall. He was built to be a leader, and he was one. "We had to. We can't go in there blind." 

"But you can sacrifice  _ Kurt _ ?"

"Oh my god," the other new kid, Sam, exclaimed in frustration from the far side of the room.

"It was Sam or Kurt," Finn explained.

"No it wasn't! He's your brother. Are you trying to kill him?"

"Mercedes, stop!" Everybody froze when Finn screamed. "Okay? I know what I'm doing. Kurt knows what he's doing." 

A ringtone sounded from across the room, instantly catching the nervous attention of the entire Glee Club. It was silenced just as fast as it had started, and then they all heard Rachel's voice: "Kurt?" 

"Oh my god." Mercedes said, rushing to Rachel's side.

" _ Hey, Rach." _

"Are you okay?"

" _ Yeah, I'm great. _ "

Mercedes, Rachel and Tina released their breaths. Finn was just nodding and staring at the phone. "Ho-how did it go?"

" _ Oh they completely found me out, but they left me with the new kid and I got out." _

_ " _ Is he any good?"

" _ He's a decent sho _ —"

Choruses of 'oh my god's and gasps sounded. Finn started to look a little white. No one liked to get shot at. It messed you up. This was Kurt's first... Finn couldn't believe someone had already pulled a gun on him, a month and a half into the season. They hadn't even competed.

" _ But... _ " Kurt had nothing to say in regards to Rachel's actual question: the new kid’s singing ability. Kurt just sighed into the phone.

"We're screwed." Rachel summed up.

" _ I'll be back in half an hour, okay?" _

Finn piped up, "Tell him good job."

"Finn says good job."

" _ Yes, it was _ ." Kurt said airily, and Rachel heard the beep of him hanging up.

The club dispersed, trying to relax. Finn stared unseeing at the phone in Rachel's hands. She just looked up at him. When he flickered out of his trance, Rachel smiled softly at Finn, possibly the gentlest action she'd ever inflicted on him. He just shook his head and walked away.

 

+

Wes nor Blaine had dared so much as to smile since the rest of the Warblers showed up. Waiting elsewhere for Blaine to scare the New Direction off, they had gotten curious as to why Blaine had bothered to fire at all, let alone twice. A nice talking to would have been fine. There needn't have been guns involved.

Well, that's what they would say. 

When they found Blaine bleeding out through his foot and a truck tearing down the street, it was a little embarrassing.

But when Wes was next to one EMT and across from the other, Blaine chillaxing as they wrapped and elevated his foot, they couldn't help but look at each other...and laugh. The EMTs gave them weird looks, but they laughed anyway, sound filling the tiny aluminum box as they sped towards the hospital.

"That was pathetic."

"He was...smart." Blaine concluded, after having sifted through many explanations he could’ve provided as to why the spy escaped. This one was truthful, and apparently effective.

Wes sighed and leaned back. "You gonna be okay?" 

Blaine smiled. "Yeah." His brow furrowed for a second. "I'm not gonna get, like, kicked out or anything, am I?"

Wes smirked. "No. It wasn't that bad." 

 

+

Kurt had been staring blankly at his chemistry homework for an hour and a half when Finn knocked.

"Come in," he droned.

Finn did. He stood just inside the door, shutting it. Kurt stayed staring at his paper. He tried to slow his mind down. "I never got to apologize. For last week."

Kurt wanted to just accept it, like he'd been taking the hugs and sad looks and comments. He wanted to let it go. But his brain was screaming, straining under the pressure. Kurt was fine and good and everything, but  _ Blaine _ was not. He'd  _ shot _ a stranger, and, while he didn't exactly feel much remorse or fear, he was concerned. Kurt hadn't told anyone. He just got out, as far as the rest of the Glee club knew. That was important. That was priority. 

But that didn't mean it didn't stress him out. 

Kurt sighed. He shut his book and swiveled around. "I pulled it first."

Finn didn't get it. "What?" Well, he usually didn't.

"I pulled my gun before he did. God, he didn't even shoot  _ at _ me. I don't know why everyone's so concerned."

Finn took a few breaths to process the information. Then, "Kurt, when someone points a gun at you, it messes you up." Kurt was a little taken aback.  "When you point a gun at someone else, it messes you up, okay. You shouldn't have had to do that. Does—does the word  _ emergency _ mean  _ anything _ to you?"

"' _ I'll take him'  _ means emergency to me." Kurt spat, matter-of-factly.

Finn sighed. "Okay. Okay, I'm just.....sorry." 

Kurt knew his time was running out. Finn was getting that look on his face that let Kurt know he felt awkward. "I shot Blaine in the foot," Kurt suddenly confessed in a surge of adrenaline and unfocused vision. 

Finn did not react violently. He barely reacted at all. But Kurt saw the cogs turning and the feelings blow over Finn. He just nodded a little and said, "Okay," and left.

To Finn, firing a gun was only a fraction more detrimental to the precious state of one's mental health than pointing it. And that's what Finn was counting. Finn trusted Kurt. If Kurt needed help, Finn could help him. But until the day shooting Blaine meant something tangible, it was okay.

But Kurt didn't know if he believed it. He was fine. The guns didn't  _ mess him up _ . They'd had them out since day one. Mike showed him how to shoot one in a field that August. Rachel taught him how to use a knife, how to sew a holster into his Docs. Mercedes and Puck showed him basic hand-to-hand combat stuff.

Kurt was safe.

He had a gun in his drawer, a knife in his boot, and the heel of his palm. He was safe, even from mental ramifications. Right? 

Kurt turned around and, taking one look at his homework, decided he needed a break. He looked instead to his laptop. He opened it, clicked through the boot-up screens, and it lit up to his Facebook feed from the previous day. 

Barely thinking, Kurt clicked in the search box and typed  _ Blaine _ .

_ Damn _ , he thought,  _ No last name _ . 

Kurt hit enter anyway and leaned on his hand. He clicked the search settings and added  _ Westerville _ . Still dozens of entries.

Private school kids are proud of their education. Not everyone Kurt knew had  _ McKinley _ on their Facebook page, but...

He deleted the city and entered  _ Dalton Academy _ . 

Bingo.

Kurt's mouse hovered over Blaine's face...and then away from it. Did he really want to do this? Blaine was the enemy! He was talented, a threat, and a private school brat.

Maybe Blaine's gun did mess him up.

_ No _ . Kurt had been thinking about that day a lot. Why the hell would Blaine want to take on Kurt by himself? Why did he shoot the window? Kurt knew he was a good shot by the aim, even if his training was nonexistent. The bullet had taken out a cross section in the wrought iron framing of the windows, making all four panels of glass shatter instead of one. 

Who the hell was this kid?

_ What better place to find out than his Facebook page? _

Kurt clicked. It loaded through. 

Blaine Anderson. 240 photos. 327 friends. Blaine's profile pic was him, out of uniform, doing the Charlie's Angels pose with the Asian guy who was acting like the Warbler's leader.  _ Huh.  _ His header photo was the school photo of the Warblers, Kurt guessed. The latest posts included links to P!nk's newest song and someone named David Crowley tagging him in some pictures.

Kurt cocked his head.  _ Who are you? _

He tried to think rationally. He tried to forget all the politics. He tried to move past the anger and fear.

How did he feel about Blaine Anderson? 

Kurt clicked Message. 

_ I'm sorry about your foot. _

That was how he felt.

He watched  _ Sending... _ turn to  _ Sent October 18 at 9:35 PM. _

Panic suddenly wracked Kurt. His hand flew to his mouth, and then to his keyboard, closing all his tabs and shutting the whole thing down. He stared at it. For good measure, Kurt slammed it shut. 

A framed picture of Finn and him being all chummy and brother-like at the wedding stared at him. Rachel's unreturned copy of the  _ Mamma Mia!  _ soundtrack was unimpressed. 

Kurt jumped out of his chair, but before he could reach the door, he felt his phone vibrate in his front pants pocket.

_ Shit. _

Kurt hesitantly took it out. 

 

_ -Oct 18 at 8:43 PM- _

_ I'm sorry about your foot. _

_ I'm just sorry you missed the last half of the performance. _

 

Kurt rolled his eyes and smiled before he even knew what was happening. He frowned at his own betrayal. His grip tightened around the phone, angry at it for giving him the truth he was running from.

But it vibrated beneath his white knuckles. Kurt quickly checked the screen.

 

_ At least the EMTs were cute. _

 

And Kurt's heart began to melt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Texts are formatted with the date in caps above the start of the conversation, and time sent below each message.  
> Facebook messages look like Facebook messages, with the date and time above each conversation.

_ OCT 20 _

_ Is there something you're not telling me? _

_ 9:31 AM _

 

Kurt received the text from Rachel.

His heart stopped. He didn't know what to do. Was his secret already out? Would he be disowned by the end of the day? He went through every excuse he could think of. His brain jumped to his passport, in case he needed to flee the country. Where was it again? Maybe this was a good time to dye his—

 

_ Are you manorexic? Or pregnant? _

_ 9:33 AM _

 

Kurt was suddenly bathed in relief. His head fell back to hit his cloud-white pillow. 

 

_ Can't people just get sick anymore? _

_ 9:33 AM _

He lied. Kurt wasn't sick. Just absolutely overcome with disgust for himself for fraternizing with the enemy.

 

_ BOYLIMIA? _

_ 9:34 AM _

_ No. October=flu. _

_ 9:34 AM _

_ Well we're going to be Singing in the Rain tonight, so maybe I'll join you. _

_ 9:35 AM _

_ Always welcome. _

_ 9:36 AM _

 

+

Kurt would say that it was the separation that made him do it. Three days. Longer than he'd ever gone without seeing anyone from Glee since he’d been forcibly inducted. 

 

_ -Oct 19 at 7:13 AM- _

_ Well I guess we can relax, if you're so scared _

_ -Oct 21 at 8:37 PM- _

_ Never. Just strategic. _

Kurt sent it after three days of no Mercedes, no Rachel, no Puck. Three days of Finn ignoring him. Three days without showtunes or Glee Club pride.

Three days of staring at his phone, coming up with every reason why he could and should reply.

_ -Oct 21 at 9:04 PM- _

_ Should I be scared? _

_ Of course. We've got me now! I thought you'd done your research. _

_ I got names and track records. No pictures. No details. _

 

_ -Oct 22 at 12:20 PM- _

_ Ah, so you didn't know who I was when you met me on the stairs. _

 

_ -Oct 22 at 7:50 PM- _

_ Nope. _

_ So what did you find out about me? _

_ But make it short, the Bachelorette starts soon. _

_ I will. I haven't even popped my popcorn yet.  _

_ I hate Ty so much. _

_ HA _

_ So the EMTs were guys. _

_ Well aren't you just a regular Sherlock Holmes  _

_ I'm rooting for Roberto. _

_ But I'd go with Kirk if it were me. _

_ Kurt and Kirk, it'd never work. _

_ I bet you're proud of yourself for that one. _

_ So very _

_ FYI, orientations were not in the brochure _

_ Shhhhhh _

 

Kurt was in deep. Way too much so. He felt terrible, on one hand, and like Hannah Montana on the other. Best of Both Worlds. Best of McKinley, and best of Dalton. (He assumed it couldn't get any better than Blaine for the Dalton part.) 

But he still felt terrible. 

It was sinusoidal, fluctuating, triggered by Glee members and diminished by anything else. 

Kurt had decided that he didn't have to decide. He could easily Facebook Blaine in secret and still sing  _ Wicked _ with the New Directions. 

But Kurt believed it was Fate smacking him in the face when he read this while walking into Peer Issues:

- _ Oct 23 at 9:12 AM- _

_ So what if the EMTs were cute, I was too busy thinking about you _

The class in which he sat next to Mercedes. The seat at which he suddenly could not stop staring.

See, that class contained Kurt, Mercedes, and a bunch of straight, white Republicans. The bond between them was forged by Glee Club and nurtured, in large part, in that classroom. 

And Kurt was betraying it.

He thought he might throw up again. 

Mercedes realized that Kurt was frozen in front of her, so she asked, "Kurt? You okay?"

He shut his phone off forcefully, and decided right then and there to...decide something later. Kurt sat down. "Great."

 

- _ Oct 23 at 9:12 AM- _

_ So what if the EMTs were cute, I was too busy thinking about you _

_ -Oct 23 at 4:17 PM-  _

_ Blaine, what are we doing _

_ Well, how would you define it? _

_ Betrayal. Deception. Disloyalty. Treason. Double-crossing. Back-stabbing. Unfaithfulness. _

_ Wow. _

_ I'm sorry. _

_ Don't think you're the only one who's felt conflicted, though. _

_ You know I used to be bullied? _

_ Not in the brochure either. _

_ That stopped the minute I joined the New Directions. _

_ I was in the closet for four years. Until Glee. _

_ That's great, Kurt. _

_ Hey _

_ No really! _

_ That's amazing. _

_ You're amazing _

_ I want to shout profanities at you _

_ And also adorable. _

_ There's a reason I was in the closet. Never met another gay before. _

_ Well, that wasn't bullying me... _

_ :( _

_ -Oct 24 at 8:24 AM- _

_ You know, I had a bully once too _

_ That's why I went to Dalton in the first place, to get away _

_ I ran _

_ I have a feeling you didn't. _

_ I don't follow. _

 

Kurt sent, and nearly walked into Brittany and Santana: cheerleaders and loyal Glee Club members. Two of the reasons why the New Directions were so cool. (Not like popular, but like, cool from the inside, like, cool from the outside too, but like, oh you get the point. People didn’t want to admit it was cool but it was.) Needless to say, the regret injection was copious.

 

_ -Oct 24 at 10:05 AM- _

_ You said joining ND stopped the bullying _

_ But I'll bet you'd done a hell of a lot to try and stop it before then _

_ Gaga faces her problems. _

_ Katy drives away. _

_ 357-3550 _

_? _

_ Text me. _

 

Kurt was in third period, Chemistry, with Rachel, when he sent that last one. He didn't feel any rage, guilt, or nausea, and the amounts of fear-of-being-found-out were lowered. (It could have been that her incessant babbling about her obsession with Finn softened the blow.)

"I know you have trouble keeping time, but this isn't exactly Glee Club," Rachel suddenly hissed at him, and Kurt realized he was tapping the metal buckle of his shin-high calvary Doc Martens on the metal leg of the lab stool, excessively quickly and annoyingly. He stopped. Dozens of eyes turned away from him. 

Kurt repositioned, trying to get his eyes to focus on the chalkboard. They wouldn't. Was Blaine going to text him? He was afraid he was. But was he more afraid that Blaine wouldn't? When Rachel put her hand over Kurt's, he realized he'd been tapping his pencil. 

She gave him a concerned look. He took a second to muster it up and then faked a smile.

Kurt was going to hell, wasn't he?

The bell rang. They separated to pack up their things. Kurt could see the determination in Rachel's eyes, and the calculation in her movements. Leaving was futile, he knew.

"Kurt," She finally asked, looking up and letting her dark, curly hair swish back over her shoulder. "Where were you on Friday?"

Kurt was surprised, and uneasy. "I had the flu." Rachel knew that. He told her that.

"Kurt, you've lost weight."  _ Huh?  _ "It's nowhere near a good, energetic loss. You're tired and distracted...If you-"

He smiled sadly, a little amused at her concern and false prediction. "I don't have an eating disorder." 

Mercedes suddenly came out of nowhere and pinched his thigh, fabric of his black-and-gray-vertical-striped jeans gathering. "Mmm, she's right."

"I don't-"

"Do we need to have an intervention?" Rachel mused with more wonder at the thought of controlling others than helping Kurt. She and Mercedes were in sync, linking their arms with Kurt's and leading him into the unforgiving river students filling the hallway.

"I'm not-"

"Ooh! I'll tell Mr. Schue!"

"You guys-"

"He can plan a whole lesson around it!" 

Kurt stopped, dead weight. "Rachel! Mercedes! Stop!" 

Mercedes looked like a kicked puppy. "I'm sorry, Kurt, we just want you to know you're beautiful."

"And loved." Rachel added, matter-of-factly, and Mercedes nodded along.

"I'm fine, okay? Can't you just trust me?" Kurt was almost choking on his own words.

Mercedes looked down when she realized he was right. Could hypocrites be right? Apparently. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

They both went in to hug him. Kurt accepted, feeling the weight of his 0 New Messages weighing down his back pocket.

 

When it finally came, there was no angel choir or trumpet sound, just a whole lot of fear. Real-time-real-life texting seemed so much more official.

 

_ OCT 25 _

_ It's our one week a versary _

_ 2:01 PM _

 

Almost needless to say, when Kurt was given four chances to give Puck a high five right after he received it, he messed up every time.

 

_ One week of being a terrible person, yay! _

_ 2:05 PM _

_ Aw, is Thursday your self pity day? _

_ 2:10 PM _

_ Is that why you messaged me last week? Felt so bad for yourself you figured apologizing might help? _

_ 2:11 PM _

_ No. _

_ 2:15 PM _

 

Kurt thought he was fine. He thought he was surviving perfectly, in his refusal to halt the enemy fraternization or tell his team. Blaine was...refreshing, and interesting, and understanding.

But his team was his team. Fight together, win together, lose together. Sew sequins onto jean jackets together. Kurt didn't elaborate on his bullying deal much to Blaine, but it meant a lot to Kurt to finally have his personal safety restored. The bully, Dave Karofsky, was a long-time psychological offender, guilty of regularly scaring Kurt out of his wits and committing minor violent acts against him. Teachers, principals, parents. None of them made even a dent into the problem.

But Finn. And Puck. Kurt knew they'd talked to Karofsky by the fear in his otherwise blank face exactly three days after school started. Kurt smiled that day, in spite of Karofsky's normally numbing presence. He smiled a lot after that day.

Kurt loved his team. He thought he was okay. Until, on Friday, in the choir room, Mr. Schue reminded them that "Sectionals are in  _ one week _ ."

Sectionals.

Sectionals meant Warblers.

Warblers meant Blaine.

 

Kurt had one week to figure out where he stood.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt had a crap weekend. Mr. Schue was super confident in their setlist on Friday, so it was bound to change by curtain call. Still, Kurt went over steps in his little bedroom. He sang whatever came to mind. He read Vogue, watched Scandal, and generally avoided Blaine's texts.

 

_ OCT 26 _

_ I'm starting to believe that no wasn't sincere. _

_ 11:42 AM _

_ Kurt? _

_ 10:13 PM _

_ OCT 27 _

_ :(  _

_ 7:29 PM _

 

Monday, Kurt felt like he was his own guardian angel, dragging his unwilling, half-dead body through his classes, collecting homework assignments concerning lessons he didn't understand. It turned out his newfound focus on the competition wasn't helping so much. He felt worse. His phone was cancerous, or poison. Kurt could barely stand to look at it. And while it made him practice harder...his body just hated him. Fatigue. Hunger. Everything. 

At Glee rehearsal, things only got worse. "Two things," Mr. Schue called, grabbing everyone's attention. "First, our competition at Sectionals are clasyour sic stool choirs." Kurt's eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t so sure. "Great voices, but they don’t move. Now if we’re gonna beat them, we need to do what they can’t. Dance. Which is why I’ve decided to feature Brittany and Mike Chang’s sweet moves in our performance."

There was some cheering. But of course, Rachel had her two cents.

"Wait, they’re gonna dance in front of me while I sing my solo?" 

"You’re not getting a solo for this competition Rachel," Mr. Schue countered, and Kurt, though all for sharing the wealth, seriously began to wonder where this was going.

Mercedes piped up. "Finally! So what song do I get to sing?"

"I was thinking that the winners of our duets competition would take the leads."

"Ken and Barbie?" Rachel called. Kurt's heart sunk fast in his chest. It drowned. Rachel started hollering about incompetency, and pretty soon Quinn and Santana were locked in a catfight with her. "Mr. Schue?" Kurt asked raising his hand.

"Enough!" The teacher yelled, scaring Rachel back into her seat. "Yes, Kurt?"

"Speaking as the only person who's actually seen Warblers new lead singer, I'd say this is definitely not the time. We'd be lucky to win with Rachel and Finn."

More outcries. Mr. Schue seemed to just stare at Kurt, disappointed. He felt his phone grow heavy. He felt cold sweat. And then Schue was calming the class again. "Okay enough already! No more conversations about this, or-or anything! This is our plan for Sectionals, and that is that. Mike, Brittany, c’mon up, let’s start choreographing."

 

+

At four o'clock, Mr. Schue dismissed everyone, but asked Kurt into his office. Once the choir room was empty and the door shut, Mr. Schue eased into his chair and faced Kurt dead on, still with that sad look in his eyes. "Kurt, I know you were trying to help, but if we can't win with Sam and Quinn then, do we deserve the win at all? This, this is not a show, this is not an act. There's no money or contracts. We're a team, Kurt. And I believe that you are a strong player on this team. Just like Quinn, or Sam, or Rachel, or Finn."

Mr. Schue was right. This was his team, but he was their team, too. They needed him as much as he was convincing himself that he needed them.

"Look this wasn't just about what you said today. There's something going on with you Kurt, and all I can say is...you don't have to go through it alone."

Kurt thought about Blaine. He thought about his words,  _ Don't think you're the only one who's felt conflicted _ . He thought about his sad faces. Kurt knew there was a real person behind all that, with exponentially more feelings than possibly communicable through text. He'd met him.

“I'm not." 

 

+

_ -OCT 28- _

_ Slotted spoons don't hold much soup. _

_ 4:23 PM _

_ But the slotted spoon can catch the potato. _

_ 4:23 PM _

_ I love Into the Woods! _

_ 4:24 PM _

_ I sang Giants in the Sky at a competition once, came first. _

_ 4:25 PM _

_ I knew my dad was a good parent when he played No One is Alone for me on the drive to school every day for a month after my mom died. _

_ 4:26 PM _

_ Would you believe me if I said I'm tearing up _

_ 4:28 PM _

_ Yes. _

_ 4:28 PM _

_ Guess who's going to be at sectionals this Friday? _

_ 4:32 PM _

_ Lindsay Lohan? _

_ 4:35 PM _

_ Me. _

_ 4:38 PM _

_ And you. _

_ 4:38 PM _

_ Would you believe me if I told you I hadn't thought about that until now _

_ 4:45 PM _

 

+

Kurt was banking on two days for Blaine to get over it. He'd have bet on it, if anyone else could ever know they were friends.

_ Friends?  _ That word struck Kurt inside his mind as strange, wrong, or premature. He told himself that, yes, they were friends. Kurt had had more real conversations with Blaine than many of the Glee Club members. Puck, Rachel, Tina, Mike...and all these people were trained and prepared to take a bullet—or at least fire one—for Kurt in an instant. 

Who was really the friend to Kurt?

 

_ -NOV 1- _

_ All change rooms are too dangerous, bathrooms are cliché, and janitors closets too… _

_ 2:47 PM  _

 

Blaine texted right on schedule. Mere days before Sectionals. 

 

_?? _

_ 2:47 PM _

 

Kurt was on his way to the auditorium, for Glee rehearsals. They would be there until six. The mere thought made his calves burn.

 

_ For when we meet in secret at sectionals, silly _

_ 2:48 PM _

 

When Kurt read it, he was interrupted by the intense sound of silence filling the stage. He looked upon his team, weighed and waiting, feeling Blaine's gun pointed at their foreheads, the Warbler's knife being drawn, the impending loss already breaking their backs.

This wasn't what Glee was about. It was supposed to be opening themselves up to joy, and normally, they did. But days like these, under pressure like this, not so much.

Pinching his perky little lips to keep from disturbing the silence, Blaine's idea fresh in his mind, Kurt wanted to decide between them.


	5. Chapter 5

_ It was dark. _

_ Too, too dark. _

_ They weren't safe here. _

_ And suddenly, it was too bright. The lights of the underground parking garage had switched on. Finn felt the apprehension form in his team behind him, in sync with his own. _

_ "Hey Twinkle Toes," Sebastian Smythe called, band of Warblers backing him. "How've you been since you lost pathetically at Sectionals and got shut down?" _

_ "You wish!" Puck suddenly lurched forwards, but Finn rushed to stop him. A strong look in Finn's eyes calmed the rage in Puck's. He backed off. _

_ Finn turned back to Sebastian, who was waiting with a sly smile. "We weren't shut down," He added some smugness of his own. "So I guess you'll see us next year." _

_ Sebastian laughed, and it echoed through their ranks like a cool breeze would pass by. "Come on. You're never going to-" _

_ "Be better than you?" Finn challenged, taking his turn in advancing. "Beat you? Because we already are. And we should have." _

_ "Prove it, Twinkle Toes." _

 

Finn rolled in his sleep, body aware of the dangers to come. 

 

_ Their battle song was coming to an end. Finn felt the tension rising. Something was going to happen. _

_ Wait, did he only know something was going to happen because this whole dream was reality eight months ago? Or did he know in the moment that his life was about to change? _

_ But then it was happening. A knife, a switchblade, in the hand of a sophomore, in a car park between Westerville and Lima. _

_ But Finn saw it. He saw the matte glow from the lights, and the prop company logo near the hilt. He knew Puck's hand could only draw so well because the director had told him to practice. _

_ And for the smallest fraction of a second you could imagine, in the moment of the plastic prop from the school musical, Finn's heart calmed. _

_ Until there was a  _ click!  _ of a real switchblade, and the glint of real metal on the caged lights above them. Finn knew they weren't safe and they were too far from home. They were sophomores. And Finn's team wasn't safe here. _

 

Finn jolted awake. 

He sighed. Checked the clock; 2:31 AM. 

It was a recurring dream. It was hyper speed at some points, and slow motion at the painful ones. His body reacted so violently towards it. Finn was pretty sure he half-woke-up like four times during it every time it happened. He always woke up sweaty, with the blankets anywhere but on his body.

It was Finn's worst memory.

After their close loss at Sectionals last year (no matter what Sebastian said), Sue decided maybe their club deserved a second chance. By the time January rolled around, an idea had been bouncing around Finn's head for way too long, and when he pitched it to the Glee Club (minus Mr. Schue of course), they were all for it.

A showdown. New Directions, Warblers. Jean jackets versus blazers. Neutral territory.

Finn still didn't know why Puck pulled the knife. He…

The only thing Puck had ever said about that night, that incident, was, "I thought it was fake." When Puck had pulled the fake knife, the West Side Story prop, a Warbler pulled a real knife. And cut Puck.

Finn blamed himself. They spent two hours at the hospital, Finn and Puck. Stitches, paperwork, calls. Carole had to come in eventually and sign him out. He stayed with Finn for three days. Finn had to look at him, guilt growing like a tumor, for three days.

It was Finn's worst memory.

 

+

Finn didn't like it.

It was Thursday, he was sleep deprived, and he didn't like it.

He didn't like the Warblers, and he didn't like the fact that he had to practice like there was no day after tommorow, but also that he wasn't singing lead and in control of the performance, and that he was always two steps behind, and math teachers still felt the need to give out homework.

Finn just didn't love his life at this point. He was stressed beyond stressed. The parking garage hadn't been their last violent encounter with the Warblers. He was just hoping tomorrow wouldn't add to the list. 

It was lunch time when Finn heard it.

"I...I thought it was fake."

His heart skipped a beat. He froze, hearing the footsteps shuffle to avoid bumping him. Finn's eyes found Puck near instantly.

He was, typical Puck, surrounded by girls. But his laid-back recline was ruined with a deer-in-headlights look. Finn sauntered over, trying not to have a heart attack in the middle of the cafeteria. "Hey, Puck." 

"I thought it was fake."

He saw the confusion growing in the clique. Bad. Finn stepped in, literally, "Can I just, borrow him-" He took Puck by the hand and forearm. Right on the scar. Right on the place he'd raised his arm—only to have it slashed open. Puck flinched up, fear swelling in his eyes.

Finn turned and gave Puck a bit of a push, propelling him out of the group. "Dude, what did I say about saying that in public? It'll freak people out."

Puck slowed to a stop. "I..." As his upper body fell slowly forwards by sheer gravity, the bad feeling in Finn's gut sunk deeper. "I thought it was fake."

Okay. Panic mode. 

Finn grabbed Puck by the shoulder and forearm, guiding him quickly out of the cafeteria and to the first quiet place: the choir room. Finn tried the closed door, though the lights were off, and Mr. Schue had not failed to leave it unlocked. 

"I thought it was fake."

Finn sat him down against the cupboard, feeling Puck's muscles go slack. He watched his eyes press shut. "I thought it was fake."

People didn't think teenagers knew what heartbreak felt like. Finn's mom didn't think he knew. She also didn't know he'd put a bullet into a kid's thigh once. 

Finn's heart broke last January. And it broke again, every time Puck got like this. So Finn just hugged him, and let him say it, until the words lost their meaning and their eyes lost their tears. Until Puck could see past the knife, the blood.

Knives, guns, they messed you up.

 

+

It was Kurt's turn to visit Finn. He knocked and got a "Come in." 

Inside, Finn was sitting at his desk, tossing a football up and down. Kurt stopped, leaned against the farthest wall. "I saw you leave with Puck today." Finn almost dropped the ball. "Is he okay?"

He just twisted it around now. "Yeah. He will be." Finn hoped. "Look, I'm gonna get to sleep-"

"Because you didn't get much last night?" Kurt said, matter-of-factly, stopping Finn. Kurt was the only person Finn had told about the nightmares, but he'd never once regretted it. Finn smiled with a little wonder at Kurt. He appreciated him. He appreciated having a brother. Kurt went on, "So how do you feel about tomorrow?"

Finn nodded a little. Then shook his head and said, "I don't know what to think."

Kurt gave an approving noise. "Same," he lied. "But...I think we have a chance."


	6. Chapter 6

It all looked so glamorous: the glamorous bus ride, the glamorous dressing rooms, the glamorous clothes and faces and buildings. 

But the truth of Show Choir competitions was that it was really rather drab. 

The drives could be hours long. Nothing about being stranded in the same spot for any number of hours was glamorous. Within seconds of getting on the bus, everyone was either playing cards, sleeping, or kissing someone. All outfits other than the costumes were sweats and New Directions jean jackets by dress code. And everyone sort of hated each other, with all the pressure continually building the whole time.

So Kurt buckled down, wary, never having been to a competition before. "Hey," he said to Mercedes, his seat partner, as the bus pulled out of McKinley. "Can we talk?" He asked, as she fumbled to find her phone and yank the headphones out of her ears. 

"We talked this morning," Mercedes claimed, but turned a little in her aisle seat to face Kurt. 

He gave her an unimpressed look. "Really talk." Mercedes tried to smile. Kurt worked hard to ignore the discomfort in her eyes. "How are you doing?"

"You know, fine. Schools fine. Glee pressure is...manageable.” Her flippant words turned into strong as she changed the subject, “But, how are  _ you _ doing Kurt?"

"I, I'm great. Yeah." 

"Really?" He nodded, a little put off by her over caring behavior. She explained, "Because...well, you're not supposed to be great, Kurt. You're supposed to be careful, quiet, jumpy, paranoid...Anything but great."

"What?"

"Kurt, when someone points a gun at you, it's terrifying. I've been there." Mercedes wasn't even looking at him. "The most fear we can experience. It’s the biggest part of growing up we have to go through. We're not invincible anymore. We get a taste of how quick and unexpected death can be..." Mercedes shook her head out of its trance and continued, speaker a little more hurriedly, "And I know, you think I'm wrong, and you don't think you're invincible, but there's supposed to be a  _ difference _ , Kurt-"

"No." Kurt stopped her. "I get it. I guess I have...changed, but I’m doing my best to move past it, and be here for my team.”

Mercedes shook her head. “But no one’s expecting you to, Kurt. It’s hard, and we all know that.”

Kurt couldn’t believe it. He’d found one more missing puzzle piece in the world of the New Directions. He saw this family, these twelve hearts beating as one unit, bonded closer than brothers, prepared to face any number of dangers for the sake of each other, for the sake of their dignity…and they were lonely.

Kurt saw the vast expanse of darkness behind Mercedes’ eyes. He saw the way she must tuck herself in at night, knowing no one was thanking God she made it through the day. Kurt saw the silence and the longing it stemmed from. Loneliness.

It dawned on Kurt in a swoop of lightheadedness and empty-chestedness what else had changed after he’d faced Blaine’s gun. Blaine. He had Blaine. 

 

+

In continuity with the overall unfabulousness of the competition, Kurt and Blaine’s meeting was not spectacular or revolutionary or even the slightest bit romantic in any sense. Like, not even poetic. Blaine just found an empty gym and texted Kurt the room number. 

When Kurt went inside, Blaine stood up from his dusty spot on the polished wood floor. “Hi,” He said. There was a moment of taking in Blaine's deep blue and bright red uniform, remembering what his face really looked like. The knot in Kurt's chest remained unsolvable. He went up and hugged Blaine. Seeing him, seeing his refreshing, honest anchor to the world outside Glee Club...It was amazing.

Kurt laughed at his own tears, wondering aloud, “Why does this feel so natural?” They broke apart. He wiped his eyes. “We’re supposed to be enemies.”

Blaine just continued smiling softly and said, "I don't know how anyone could be your enemy." Kurt panicked a little. He dismissed it, rolling his eyes and turning away. Blaine got an eyeful of Kurt's offensively sparkly New Directions jean jacket. It...it made him smile. "You look so loyal." 

That struck Kurt as odd. "I am." He pointed out, and Blaine regretted it.

"An-anyways, how've you been?"

Kurt sunk to the floor against the wall where he'd found Blaine. "Good, good. Hey," he chimed, suddenly interested in Blaine, who was joining him on the ground,"How did your foot heal up?"

"Oh, awesome. There's a weird scar from the surgery, but I can walk, so."

Kurt smiled. "I feel like Bruce from Finding Nemo."

Blaine laughed, then sobered and lifted one hand in vow: "New Directions are friends, not food." Their laughs pealed across the empty, resounding gym. 

"You know, I still think you're a ruthless, pretentious, private school brat."

Blaine nodded. "I figured you might. But...I still think you're an impulsive redneck." 

Kurt's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

Blaine just shrugged. "It's what they say." Kurt just shook his head and looked out on the gym. Blaine went on, wistfully, "I like talking to you Kurt." But at Kurt's reluctance to answer he considered their position and location. "Even if it is a little weird." 

 

+

"Alright, bring it in," Sebastian called, and the Warblers left their lighted mirrors to form a huddle, with their leader in the center. Blaine's head was still reeling a little from speaking with Kurt face-to-face. They hadn't exactly been on good terms the last time they'd met.

If Blaine was honest, Sebastian's idea of a pep talk was a little violent, entirely too mean, and only enraged or discouraged the listeners, depending on each of their opinions of him. But Blaine couldn't be honest about him. Not to any of his friends, Wes, or David, or Trent, or…

Kurt. 

It occurred to Blaine that he could complain to Kurt, probably without negative consequences. Huh.

For Blaine, he just didn't see the spirit, the joy, in his own team like he saw it in Kurt. Blaine saw a common love, and light. It was electric and proud, making Kurt smile in a way that made Blaine guess he used to smile differently. Fake, or halfheartedly. Nothing like the brighter-than-the-sun smile he had now. Blaine had seen the videos of last year's Sectionals, and the spirit was common to the team. Blaine saw it in Kurt, and relished it.

And he didn't see a shred of it in his own Glee Club.

Blaine's attraction to the Warblers was polar opposite to his affinity for the New Directions. They were clean cut and talented and smiled pretty. It was a nice group to be a part of.

But the McKinley kids were fireworks in the shape of hearts and puppies, set off by nice clowns or something. And come on, who didn't love puppies?

Wes was staring into the audience from the wings, where they waited. He rocked on his heels a little.

"Hey," Blaine said, moving to stand behind him. Wes looked over. He started to speak but Blaine cut him off, saying something he’d been waiting to say for a long time: "Why did you let Sebastian take over?"

Wes' face turned from grim concentration to grim surprise. He tutted a little and crossed his arms, checking behind himself—which Blaine had already done—then looking back out. "Well. After I..." He trailed off with a look suggesting Blaine could fill in the blanks for himself. "...The rest of the team felt the committee wasn't cutting it. We shouldn't have the power. People like me shouldn't have the power."

Wes obviously didn't realize that Blaine didn't get it. "Wait, what? What are you-"

A stage hand finally gave Sebastian the go ahead and the Warblers lined up quickly in the curtains. Wes was done with Blaine before he'd even asked. They took to the stage.

Blaine tried to get another quiet word in with Wes, but Malcolm was in between them when they were in formation. 

"And now, for our second performance of the program," The announcer's voice called, and Thad commandeered Blaine's shoulders roughly to make him face front.The curtain began to rise. "From Dalton Academy in Westerville, the Warblers!"

Blaine's heart calmed in the moment of silence. He didn't breath, he didn't move, his heart did not beat. The curtain was up and the lights fighting to reach the darkest corners of the stage—though Blaine's head was facing down, as directed.

The intro to  _ Hey, Soul Sister _ kicked in. Blaine allowed himself one big breath, before— " _ Hey _ !" He sang, as convincingly as he could while looking down. " _ He-ey. He-ey-ey-ey-ey. He-ey-ey-ey-ey _ ." 

The additional parts chimed in and Blaine blazed through the 'Hey!'s again. Then, as the lyrics began, his head shot up. " _ Your lipstick stain _ ," He sang, feeling the adrenaline ebb. Blaine's eyes couldn't help but search, and sure enough, they found a row of faded denim. They found Kurt. 

Blaine couldn't do anything, he knew, but he could smile. Kurt was smiling. Hell, the whole audience was smiling.

So Blaine smiled.

 

+

"Kurt, honestly," Rachel chided, striding up to him in the green room.

He turned away from the mirror in confusion. "What?"

"You're supposed to be the secluded, bashful new guy."

"...So?"

"Where are you always disappearing to? Do you have an addiction? Do you have a boyfriend? Huh?"

"Rachel," Kurt scoffed, turning in his chair. "Are you for real? I don't have either of those—you're overreacting." 

"Ha!" Rachel spit, "So you admit you were missing this afternoon?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I was at the library down the hall. Junior history matters, you know." Rachel just turned up her nose and stormed to the other side of the room to start a catfight, probably about Finn, with some other undeserving ear. 

 

+

When  _ Valerie _ ended, the New Directions just squished to stage left for awards. The other groups filed in, Kurt unable to see Blaine among the blue suits.

"Oh my god, what if you see him?"

"Oh my god, you're right. Kurt!" 

Kurt suddenly realized that Rachel and Santana were talking to him. "What?"

" _ Blaine _ ," Rachel hissed, like it was a dirty word. To them it was.

Kurt just furrowed his eyebrows, trying not to look too much in the Warblers' direction. "I don't see what you're so excited about. Doesn't this happen all the time?" 

"Well I wouldn't say  _ all _ the time." Santana chimed.

"And now," The announcer came on again, making everyone snap to face the front and grab hands, "This year’s head judge, associate director of the Ohio Department of Motor Vehicles, Mister Pete Sznowski." Kurt marveled disdainfully at the people they chose for these things.

"Thank you, and thank you to all the groups who performed here today, we all had a serious, good time. You know what else, is a serious good time? Taking two minutes to save a life by filling out an organ donor card, because it’s never too late, to donate." 

In an attempt to relieve his eyes of the sight of sweat beading on Sam's neck, he looked again, a rogue head, to the Warblers. 

Blaine was staring at him. 

Kurt grip on Mercedes was getting sweaty. Rachel's presence was mere feet from him. Finn was, what, right behind him?

But Blaine was smiling. He was smiling through everyone who'd threatened to kill them if they talked to each other, right into Kurt.

So Kurt smiled back. And it made him feel better than any jean jacket or scared bully could.

"Drumroll please," The judge asked, and they both looked forwards again, hearts racing. The collective temperature jumped up a degree. "In third place, the Hipsters!" 

A breath was released. 

"Thank you, drive carefully. And now." 

And a bigger breath was taken. Kurt was losing feeling in his hands. Rachel was almost shaking.

Kurt had thought a bit about results. The New Directions' first loss was still echoing over the club today. It started them on the whole dark, violent chapter they resided in. If they lost again...who knew?

"The winner of this year’s West Central Sectionals is...

"It’s a tie.

"Congratulations!

"You're all going to Regionals!"

The uproar reached Kurt's ears.

_ Yes. _


	7. Chapter 7

Being newbies to winning a show choir competition, Kurt and his team were unaware of absolute high it brought on. He saw everyone smiling bigger, choosing kinder words, getting to class quicker. Puck held doors for Artie. Quinn winked at Rachel. That Monday was possibly the best Monday in existence.

Though it was strange Finn wasn't there.

Sure, it faded, by the time Thursday rolled around and there were unit tests and other things to think about. But Kurt had Mercedes back. They were friends again. Rachel's kindness was decreasing...or perhaps just her overall presence? That would have been a good thing. And Blaine, dreamy as ever. Kurt wasn’t sure what he thought about Blaine. He really tried not to think of him at all, which was futile since he thought about him  _ all  _ the time. Kurt was happy. Everything seemed to have it's precarious, haphazard place.

Until Christmas time.

 

+

It was three weeks later that the school was decked in green and red. Glee kids hummed Elvis songs and ancient hymns, cheerleaders raised money, people smiled more. The sound of sleigh bells practically followed them through the halls.

Finn had been back. He wasn't exactly a Grinch...but he was sort of acting like the opposite of Christmas spirit. Which put a damper on the whole Glee club, and especially his closest friends. Puck had ripped down three sprigs of mistletoe so far.

But Kurt wasn't letting it get him down. Blaine was singing him the twelve days of Christmas every day (via text), Mercedes was happier than he'd seen her in a long time, and Rachel seemed to be blabbing at him less and...staring at him wordlessly more. Whatever. So what if his neighbor was itching to defile the festive garlands he'd strung around the hallway to their bedrooms? Christmas was beautiful.

"Two words," Rachel spat at him one morning between first and second. Kurt paid her rapt, rushed, shocked attention. "Christmas. Mine." 

"I'm sorry?" Kurt asked at the absolutely abominable assumption that Rachel wanted to own Christmas.

"I know exactly what Mr. Schue is planning for next week and you will not take the Holiday spotlight from me," Rachel ranted with the vigour of an angry lawyer. "I know Mr. Schue wanted to give you a Sectionals solo-"

"Really?" Kurt interrupted, earning a wide-with-shock look.

"That's not important." Rachel shut him down, then flicked her hair over her shoulder and smiled. "So, what do you think I should sing? I was thinking, if I could get Finn to sing with me, I'd do  _ Baby, It's Cold Outside _ , and if not I'd try The Carpenters-"

"Oh my god, that's so funny," Kurt joined in, weak under the pull of a good girl chat. "Blaine was just asking me to sing that with-"

"Wait, who?" Kurt could practically see her brain shouting, ' _ THAT'S A BOY'S NAME! THAT'S A BOY'S NAME!! _ '

_ Shit. _ "Uh. T-Tina, was saying, she-"

"Did you just say  _ Blaine _ ?" Rachel's mind was working, fighting for a face to the name.

Kurts heart was pounding, sweat appearing. " _ Tina _ , she wanted me to sing-"

"Blaine  _ Anderson _ ?" She hissed, leaning closer and closer up to Kurt. 

"Oh God no." Kurt whispered to his locker, mentally searching for his Tayor Lautner mini-poster, so he could pray to it. " _ Please _ ," Kurt turned back to Rachel, desperate, "I can explain  _ everything _ ." Rachel's face looked like the time she was about to bust Sandy Ryerson and get the Glee club under new order. Kurt sort of feared for his life. No, he did fear for his life.

But Rachel’s potential wrath was zeroed as the bell sounded. Her head snapped towards the offending sound, and then back to Kurt. “Auditorium. Lunch." She stormed away. 

Kurt let his temple fall against the cool metal of his locker. The dread of what repercussions his relationship with Blaine could have seeped into Kurt for the first time, for real. He'd been fearful before, but now he'd stared his team in the face and watched them judge him. His precariously packaged life fall and crumble. The fate of his favorite friend entrusted to the most ruthless, ambitious person Kurt knew.

Kurt imagined this was what looking down the barrel of a gun  _ really _ felt like.

 

+

_ DEC 5 _

_ On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: _

_ 10:06 AM _

_ Three French hens _

_ 10:14 AM _

_ I messed up. _

_ 10:15 AM _

_ Can't it wait until the verse is done? _

_ 10:16 AM _

_ No. _

_ 10:17 AM _

_ TWO TURTLE DOVES AND A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREE _

_ 10:18 AM _

_ Ha.  _

_ 10:18 AM _

_ Hello? _

_ 10:23 AM _

_ Sorry, class. _

_ 10:34 AM _

_ I may have accidentally mentioned your name to none other than Rachel Berry _

_ 10:35 AM _

_ Oh. _

_ 10:37 AM _

_ And that you asked me to sing with... _

_ 10:37 AM _

_? _

_ 10:40 AM _

_ That was as far as I got. "Blaine was just asking me to sing that with..." _

_ 10:47 AM _

_ Will you? _

_ 10:51 AM _

_ Will I what? _

_ 10:52 AM _

_ Sing with me? _

_ 11:01 AM _

_ Blaine. _

_ 11:05 AM _

 

+

Kurt honored his word and met Rachel in the auditorium. She was playing scales halfheartedly on the shining black piano. He entered slowly. When Rachel heard him, she stopped and turned on the seat. She smiled. "Hey."

Kurt didn't try to return it. "Hi." 

"Come sit," Rachel beckoned, and Kurt made his way to sit with her on the piano bench. They both faced the keys, looking over the far end and into the empty audience. "And I thought  _ I _ had a fairy tale love story," Rachel mused. Kurt really had to refrain from commenting.  _ What love? What story? You don't have either. What kind of fairy tales do you read?!? _ He screamed in his head, just breathing forcefully. 

Then. "Wait, what?" Kurt asked, as his brain processed what that implied about  _ him _ .

Rachel suddenly lifted one hand and said, as gracefully as she could manage, "Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Verona, where we lay our scene-"

"Woah, woah,  _ what _ ?" Kurt spat, standing up and backing away as she continued.

"-From ancient grudge break to new mutiny." Rachel finished with a flourish that sent fear and nausea to Kurt's core.

"What the hell, Rachel."

"It's Shakespeare," She reasoned.

Kurt understood all too well what she was trying to say, he just wished she hadn't said it. "It's not...we aren't...he..."

Rachel shifted along the bench, closer to Kurt, a hungry and hopeful look in her eye. "Kurt, this is amazing. This is a dream come true."

"Ho-hold on, let me get this straight. You can't have your own fairy tale, so you're stealing mine. Like, what?"

"Everyone needs an ally!" Rachel said sweetly.

"What, someone I trust? Someone I tell my secrets to? Yeah, no way, princess."

Rachel calmed, turning back to the piano keys. "Just...tell me about him." At Kurt's silent reluctance, she went on. "I don't think it's fair that you've found something beautiful and feel the need to cover it up. I've...had a hand in it, I'll admit. And at first, I was really angry. I borrowed a lighter from Jenny to burn your jacket."

“Jenny?!”

“I know. Scary. But then I realized, you deserve to be happy, Kurt. And you wouldn't jeopardize all the good things in your life for just anyone. So I want to be here for you. Whether it's about forbidden love or a rogue pimple." 

Kurt waited. An ally didn't sound all bad... But considering Rachel was threatening him not an hour ago proved that she wasn't exactly the best candidate. But she knew. Dammit. She knew; she was the only candidate. He slowly slinked to sit back on the bench, and before Rachel could shriek or speak he said, "We aren't in love."

 

_ I have a surprise for you... _

_ 2:13 PM _


	8. Chapter 8

_ DEC 5 _

_ I have a surprise for you... _

_ 2:13 PM _

_ A puppy? _

_ 2:51 PM _

_ Broadway tickets? _

_ 2:51 PM _

_ Taylor Lautner? _

_ 2:51 PM _

_ No. _

_ 2:55 PM _

_ Wait is this a good surprise or a bad surprise _

_ 2:59 PM _

_ Kurt? _

_ 3:12 PM _

_ I really want to say good. _

_ 3:13 PM _

_ I'm sure it's fine _

_ 3:15 PM _

_ Rachel volunteered herself to be my number one confidant when it comes to you. _

_ 3:30 PM _

_ Forcibly volunteered. Demanded, really. _

_ 3:32 PM _

_ Well. She sounds lovely. _

_ 3:45 PM _

 

+

That Monday, Rachel approached Kurt with a...sincere smile on her face. Huh. "So  _ Romeo _ ," She gushed, "What would you like for Christmas?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Please, you know I'm Juliet here. How could I give up an opportunity to kiss Leonardo DiCaprio?" Before Rachel could answer he'd realized what he'd said with a shocked look into his locker. Kurt turned with graves in his eyes, "Forget I said that."

"Ohhh, never." Rachel smiled ecstatically. "But seriously, what's your greatest desire this year?"

Kurt sighed. "Besides a break from all this homework?" He groaned, accentuating his point by dragging his messenger bag out of his locker, barely able to lift it. Something crossed his mind. "Blaine..." He trailed off, thinking deeper into the proposition, looking past Rachel's head.

"What?" She prodded, and they begin to walk towards the choir room.

"Blaine, kinda sorta asked me to sing with him," Kurt admitted, "But it's impossible, it can't be here and it can't be there-"

"Consider it done," Rachel nodded, brain spinning with plans. 

"What, uh, really?" Kurt flustered.

"Of course. I have my ways, Hummel." The sly look in her face as she took Kurt's arm reminded him of the  _ keep your enemies closer _ proverb.

_ Oh well _ , He thought,  _ Baby, It's Cold Outside  _ already stuck in his head.

 

+

After Mr. Schue had announced his genius, revolutionary Christmas week idea (eye roll), Finn said he had an announcement. Kurt stopped tracing hearts into his wrist and sat back as Finn went to the front. 

He looked dead, and angry, like he'd lost a war. Kurt tried not to see it. He tried to see teenager Finn, the one he'd once looked at with so much adoration it hurt, the Finn who commanded the troops like a king. 

"I know I haven't been acting like a leader lately, and I'm sorry but...I'm just really caught up in Sectionals still." 

"But we won," Rachel said, in an  _ are-you-kidding _ tone. 

"Damn white boy don't know what he got," Mercedes mumbled.

"I-I get it, okay?" Finn went on, "But we didn't. We tied. And we were better than them, I know it." His confused squintiness turned to hard resolution. "We deserved to win. It's an insult to our dignity." 

As the Glee Club dissolved into orderly shouts and explanations, Kurt felt the desperation, the hopelessness, settle into his chest. He saw his phone flushed down the toilet, his vocal cords ripped out, his happy gland amputated. Kurt knew where Finn was going. Lots of others did too. He knew that the feud with Dalton may have been docile for a few months, but like a sleeping dragon, it would always awake again at the worst time.

And Kurt had been doing so well.

 

+

The walk to the car was silent, charged. Kurt knew this feeling from when it used to be one sided, but constant, when he still had that  _ thing  _ for Finn. Yes, his parents made them drive together. They did, after all, go to the same school. And participate in the same activities. (Sort of. Activity, singular) 

But this time, he could feel the leaning away, the deliberate distance, the careful steps, the stiff neck. In himself and Finn. 

It's only when Kurt slammed his car door shut just a little harder than Finn did that Finn snapped. "Did I offend you or something?" He asked in his offended-Finn voice.

"Yes, actually-" Kurt paused. What, Finn insulted Blaine? Finn called Blaine a cheater? Finn did the one thing he had always done and stayed loyal to the team, while Kurt got offended because he was the betrayer? "No."  _ Yes. I just don't have an allowable reason why. _

Finn threw his hands up and started the car in his frustration.

"But you  _ can't _ do this, Finn. I know you're angry, and things don't make sense, but I'm..." He paused again, Finn glancing over as he drove, through the parking lot and out. His brow was pulled tight still. "I'm scared." Kurt admitted. "I've seen you when you're fighting. And last time..." Kurt looked down, unable to continue. 

Finn just kept driving. "This is nothing like last time." 

 

+

Lucky for Kurt, he was a high school student, so there was no such thing as the calm before the storm. If the storm came in the middle of exams, so be it. 

Well, it wasn't going to, he didn't think. But he didn't have much time to dwell on what Finn was throwing himself into because a) Finn refused to talk about it and b) Christmas must go on. Mr. Schue had them carolling around the school, which sucked, but at least Kurt had hymnal harmonies running through his head rather than the songs he could sing when Blaine lay bloody and dying in Kurt’s arms because of Finn's stupid grudge. 

 

+

_ DEC 7 _

_ On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... _

_ 9:35 AM _

_ Harry Potter disc set? _

_ 10:01 AM _

_ Seven swans a swimming, silly _

_ 10:10 AM _

_ SIX GEESE A LAYIN _

_ 10:11 AM _

_ FIIIIIVE!!! GOLDEN RINGS!!! _

_ 10:11 AM _

Kurt looked up violently from his texts as the sharp sound of someone slamming his locker shut woke him from Blaine induced daydreams. But he really should've known better, because there was only one person who'd slam Kurt's locker, and that person already knew about Kurt's little problem.

"Merry Christmas," Rachel squealed, smile brighter than twelve Christmas trees. She held out a card. Kurt put his still vibrating phone away awkwardly, and caught a glance at Finn across the hall. His expression immediately went sour.

"We'll see about that," He challenged and took the envelope. Kurt moved expertly through it, revealing a generic animal cartoon card, with a time and address inside. Kurt's brow exercised a little harder. "Rachel...is this  _ your _ address?" 

For some reason, Rachel thought everything was peachy. "It's on the outskirts of town, and I got Blaine a ride, it's going to be perfect, Kurt, I promise-"

He put it away, still skeptical but...accepting. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Singing! You get to sing together, like you said-"

Kurt refused to get excited, but softened when he found himself rather disappointed in light of this news. "Rachel-"

Rachel stopped bouncing. "No. You're going; you know you are." Kurt went for yet another protest, but as she walked away, Rachel called "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

And Kurt left it at that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter especially assumes knowledge of the general plot of Glee Season 2.

Finn was losing his mind.

The image of threads fraying and snapping stuck with him. He slipped far too often into daydreams about oddly lit underground parking lots and mohawked friends stuttering. Finn thought he was losing control. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t think rationally. Nights were so bad, he was becoming extremely overtired. He watched  _ Babe _ without crying. That one important game came and went. 

But every moment was plagued with at least the fear of slipping away into the deepest, darkest crevice of his brain.

Finn sat, staring deep into the blurry, orange crowd behind Peyton Manning’s poised form. The poster on his wall above his desk. He stared. Peyton. He is real. He is now... 

He only realized once he woke up again that his concentration had slipped from the player into his own nightmares. Finn’s fist came down on the table. “Stop it!” He screamed at no one. His fingers pulled through his hair as he tried to concentrate again.  _ Just stare ahead. Stay. Stay here. Hold on. _ ..

Finn jolted awake, again, feeling his adrenaline and peak fall away from the dream for the second time. He started to scream again-

_ Knock knock. _ “Finn?”

_Rachel_. “Come in,” He confirmed, and stood but did not turn. Finn tried to calm down and rub the dark circles from under his eyes. No luck.

“I’m just here to pick up Kurt...I wanted to check on you.” Rachel explained quietly.

Finn turned. He tried not to show his anger, but it would not be silent. “I’m fine, okay.” He sat on his bed so he wouldn’t have to look at her. Rachel joined him without skipping a beat. He bristled, back arching and skin tingling with discomfort. His voice was soft and serious. “Rachel…”

Her hand closed in on his. “You’re not alone Finn.” She said, low. “And you’re not okay, either.”

Finn could feel it. Her love, and devotion, and promise. He could love her so much…

But even trying to consider it weighed him down. His devotion and promise would be shoddy and fall through. He knew it. Finn was barely alive, let alone able to thrive and love another human being. He was only surviving.

Finn shrugged his hand away. He was silent, and let her leave without so much as a goodbye. 

He loved Rachel. 

That’s why he couldn’t love her.

 

+

Kurt stared in the mirror.

He thought a striped cardigan and black jeans were hardly appropriate for a secret mission. But they were a terrific disguise.

Here Kurt was, going with Rachel under Finn’s nose, to do the most traitorous thing he had managed to do yet. The nausea bubbled and tickled, but it shook him little. Kurt was too excited for that.

A quick knock and, “Ready?”

Kurt turned and faced Rachel, hitching his canvas bag higher onto his shoulder: “As I’ll ever be.”

 

+

Rachel dropping Kurt off was interesting, as Kurt should have known that she was not going to wait in the car.  Kurt could practically feel Rachel vibrating behind him as he knocked on Blaine’s front door. Blaine pulled it open, and since it was a Saturday, he was in sweatpants and his hair was ungelled and all mussed up. “Hey,” He said.

Rachel pushed around Kurt and enveloped Blaine in a hug. Kurt’s stomach plummeted. “Sorry,” He said.

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, as Rachel backed up.

“Rachel Berry. Nice to meet you.”

Blaine didn’t answer. He smiled at Kurt. “Hey Kurt,” He said, wrapping him in a half-hug and planting a kiss on Kurt’s cheek.

“Hi,” Kurt returned, trying to keep his screaming internal. He didn’t even register the look on Rachel’s face when she took her cue and disappeared.

And after that it all went fine.

As one may guess, singing with Blaine was a challenging, refreshing, and fun experience. The most challenge-singing wise-he’d had in a long time. The greatest fun he’d had in a long time. And it ended, which was a relief and a let down, as sometimes we believe the scariest and best things never end, but they do. 

And then Blaine invited Kurt to talk. Just talk. They sat down on the couch, a polite distance from one another.

“Is Scandal okay?” Blaine asked, turning on the TV.

Kurt smiled a secret smile. “Scandal’s great.”

Blaine smiled back and opened a bag of Crunchy Cheetos. Kurt nearly cried on the spot.

“So, what did you think?” Blaine asked, instantly completely ignoring the TV in favor of Cheetos and Kurt.

“Well,” Kurt lost himself. “You’re really strong, which is good, but you have to remember that  _ It’s Cold Outside _ is a conversation. It’s not Blaine featuring, it’s Blaine and Blank.” Kurt marveled at Blaine’s rapt attention, soaking in each word like it came from God himself. “And, uh, the acting was a little…distracting.”

Blaine suddenly broke a huge grin on his face, in realisation of what his “fake” flirting had done to Kurt. “My apologies. I couldn't help it. You were just...just great.” At Kurt’s easy silence, he said, “Anyways, congratulations on winning at Sectionals.”

Kurt immediately rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me. My brother’s obsessed with it; he thinks it was ‘an insult to our dignity’ to tie.” 

Blaine frowned. “Why’s that?” He stuffed more Cheetos into his mouth, and offered the bag to Kurt.

“Who knows?” Kurt snatched a handful. “Maybe he’s not a Train fan.” 

“Everyone loves a good pop song.” Blaine remarked.

“How’d your team take it?”

“Well enough, I guess. They just act  _ really  _ motivated in rehearsals.”

Kurt just hummed and took more Cheetos.

“I mean,” Blaine went on. “I guess it makes sense. You’re more open with your anger. We can control it, focus.”

Kurt paused mid-chew. Blaine didn’t notice. “Why do you say that?” He said carefully.

“Well look at how this whole thing started. Finn pulling a knife during a  _ sing-off _ , like really?” Blaine went on through his Cheetos, incredulous.

Kurt blinked a few times. “Maybe, if that’s how it actually happened.”

Blaine caught on. He slowed, stopped. “That is how it happened.”

“That one in charge, he pulled it first. He cut Puck.” Kurt explained, heart straining with the pain. What had they told Blaine? What had they brainwashed him into? 

“Sebastian?” And then when Kurt shook his head, “Wes?!?”

“I, I think so.” Kurt’s hopes sank as Blaine just looked at him, disbelieving. “Would I lie to you?” Kurt asked.

“I think the real question is, would  _ they _ lie to  _ you _ ?”

Kurt’s heartbeat was racing. Could this be real? Would he lose Blaine over Warbler propaganda? “Would my brother have nightmares every night if he pulled the knife first?”

Blaine fought it. He took a moment, and then a light seemed to shine over his eyes. He looked away into space. “That would explain…”

“That would explain a lot of things.” Kurt assured, and Blaine looked back with apologetic eyes. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” Kurt stopped him, and at Blaine’s inability to stop doing those dumb puppy dog eyes, he pulled him into a hug. 

Blaine breathed, feeling the weight of truth and sorrow settle into his heart.  _ Wes, how could you? _ Blaine thought, and squeezed hard around Kurt’s torso. It made sense. The Warbler’s didn’t want a loose cannon who pulled knives leading them. That’s why Wes was acting weird talking about it, and why Sebastian was elected.

 

_ “Sebastian, why are we even doing this?” _

_ “How can you ask that? It’s all your fault. Haven’t you gotten that through your thick skull yet?” A smooth, arrogant voice answered the higher, wiser-sounding voice. _

_ Blaine almost plugged his ears out of respect. It was Audition Day for the Glee Club at his new school, and the judges apparently didn’t know about the lack of sound barriers between he and they. The door was open just a crack, but it was enough.  _

_ “We can’t have people focusing on your mistake, Butterfingers.” Mr. Arrogant continued. “Fresh meat is the only stench strong enough to mask the scent of blood.” _

 

Fresh meat.

The scent of blood.

The only reason Blaine was in the Warblers, was to distract from Wes pulling a knife at the sing-off?

“Oh my god…” Blaine said into Kurt’s shoulder, and pressed his forehead down like he could disappear into Kurt’s striped cardigan. He wished he could.

“It’s okay,” Kurt cooed, feeling the strings between he and Blaine tied together once more. “You didn’t know. It’s okay.”


	10. Chapter 10

_ DEC 25 _

_ It just wasn't the same, alone on christmas day! _

_ 7:31 AM  _

_ All I want for Christmas is you! ;) _

_ 7:35 AM _

 

_ + _

“So, what are the New Directions planning for Regionals?” Blaine asked, at the tail end of January when the competition was still weeks away. Kurt was sitting on Blaine’s bed and Blaine was lying down facing him, giving him a sly look.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kurt returned.

Blaine’s expression softened as he propped his chin up on his hand. “Seriously, how is Glee?”

Kurt sighed. “I’m just so…over it, you know? I don’t even know what we’re doing for Regionals,” He admitted, and let Blaine’s free hand take his. “It was fun once I stopped being scared of getting shot by my own brother, but then I met you, and…”

Blaine just watched as Kurt looked down and picked at a loose thread in his jeans. “I’m sorry it’s hard,” He offered, and then when Kurt didn’t budge, “I haven’t said a word in practice since Christmas. I can’t stop thinking about Wes.”

Kurt looked over, sadness swelling in his eyes, and said, “I’m sorry too.” He saw tears surface briefly in Blaine’s eyes before he rolled off the bed and stood up.

“Enough of that,” He said, trying to look and sound happy as if actual happiness would follow, “Let’s do something fun.”

Kurt appreciated the effort. “Wanna rank red carpet looks from the Golden Globes?”

Blaine smiled and reached for his laptop. “More than anything,” He said, and as he climbed back onto the bed he noted, “If we ever get out of this, remind me to never join another gang.”

Those words just cemented in Kurt’s brain. He vaguely registered Blaine playing it off as a joke and himself chuckling along, but as Blaine opened a  _ Vogue _ slideshow, his brain kept repeating,  _ if we ever get out of this. If we ever get out of this _ …

  
  
  


“Hey, are you okay?” Blaine asked.

Kurt snapped out of it. “Yeah.” 

Blaine pushed the computer away a little and adjusted so he could look at Kurt better. “What were you thinking about?”

Kurt shook his head, saying, “Nothing.”

Blaine gave him a moment to elaborate, face clear and eyes willing.

“I'm okay,” Kurt said, though he didn't know why, “Or, I will be.” 

Somehow, his hand found Blaine's thigh, and Blaine blushed a little. Kurt listened to him breathing. Blaine said, “Of course.”

They were quiet for a moment. Kurt thought about figuring out how to be okay with Blaine, how maybe one day, they could get out of this.

Blaine put a hand on Kurt's cheek and kissed him. Kurt kissed him back. 

Instantly, everything else was dark and quiet. All that existed was his mouth on Blaine's, Blaine's tongue moving against Kurt's lips, fingertips pressing into each other's cheek and pants. Something lovely started to build up in Kurt's stomach, and something hazy started to build up in his brain.

Then, Blaine pulled away. “I really loved J.Lo’s dress.”

“I agree,” Kurt managed, and they turned their attention to the screen before either of them though too much about how good that felt.

 

+

_ FEB 8 _

_ They asked me to solo at regionals _

_ 5:21 PM _

_ That’s great! _

_ 5:46 PM _

_ Is it? _

_ 5:52 PM _

_ You're great. So yes. _

_ 6:01 PM _

 

+

“Before we get started,” Schue said, and gestured to Kurt. “Kurt?”

He made his way down to stand next to his teacher and nodded at the solemn, sorry group before him. “I’ve decided what I want to sing at Regionals.  _ Candles _ , by Hey Monday.”

People nodded. Rachel looked impressed. 

“But, I would like Finn to sing it with me.” 

That didn’t go over as well. Tina was shaking her head and Mercedes looked like she wanted to slap him. Schue moved in to interrupt but Santana called out, “Isn’t that a break-up song?”

Kurt raised one hand, keeping the other firmly wrapped across his chest. “If you would let me explain,” He started, and everyone quieted. “It’s not about the words. It’s about the emotion. The rest of our set is flashy and uptempo, this…We can win with this.”

Everyone considered it, and seemed to agree. Rachel was smiling at him. 

Then, Finn spoke up. “Why me?”

Kurt sighed. “ _ Candles _ is about going through something. It’s about mourning and closing yourself off. We’re going through something, but, you don’t have to do it alone,” He explained, and the room was dead quiet.

Finn stood up, walked over, and pulled Kurt into a hug.

 

+

“So it worked?” Blaine asked, excited, in the passenger seat of Kurt’s truck.

Kurt nodded. “They bought it. They think I actually care,” He gushed, unfeeling.

“Ooh, I’m scared. The New Directions might actually win.”

Kurt scoffed, shooting Blaine a only quick incredulous look as he was still driving. Blaine’s brother had gotten them fake I.D.’s so they were headed to a gay bar out of town, one the Warblers wouldn’t be caught dead at. “I might believe that if I knew what the Warblers were up to.”

Blaine just squeezed Kurt’s hand. “I may have something special planned,” He admitted, wearing a shit-eating grin.

Kurt didn’t dignify that by looking over. He just shook his head, then remembered, “Oh! Speaking of special planning, open the glove box.”

Blaine obliged. “I hope it’s a gun to shoot myself with.”

“Actually, there probably is a gun in there. Don’t—don’t touch it.”

“Ah!” Blaine said, “A red—”  _ sniff _ “—perfumed envelope with our names on it, and a gun to shoot myself with. Thanks, Rachel!”

Kurt had to hazard a glance to make sure Blaine wasn’t actually ensuring his premature death by messing with a New Directions gun. He wasn’t. 

“The only true ally,” Blaine mused as he ripped the envelope open and took a moment to read the contents.

“It’s our Valentine’s plans,” Kurt enlightened, putting enough embarrassment in his voice to avoid culpability. “So don't make any others.”

“Never,” Blaine promised, and managed to kiss Kurt's cheek while he drove. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may write the Valentine's date as a separate one-shot! <3


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt's forehead was pressed against Blaine's, their breaths in sync, fingers entangled and gripping tightly. Scales were sung in the distance. Everything had led up to this moment, this was—

“So cliché,” Blaine muttered.

Kurt didn't move, just opened one eye to see both of Blaine’s still closed, but he was smiling a little. “What?”

“We're in a broom closet,” He explained, “Such a cliché secret meeting spot.” 

Kurt stood up straight and smacked him lightly on the arm. “Shut up! We were connecting.”

“I'm sorry, come here,” Blaine said, snaking his arms around Kurt, who couldn't exactly back up but didn't actually mind it. Blaine closed the gap between them quickly, pressing his lips against Kurt's, quick and chaste. Blaine looked up at Kurt.

Kurt didn't think. He was scared and nervous and happy and terrified. Waiting was for people who had time. “I love you,” He said, smiling down at Blaine.

Blaine gasped a little, grin spreading quickly. “I love you too.”

Kurt let them enjoy being there, in each other's arms, for a few more breaths. It was a Friday night, they could be out late after the competition, and Kurt was sure his team wouldn’t mind waiting around for a while to look for him…Then, “We have to go.”

Blaine groaned and leaned his head into Kurt's shoulder. Kurt let him stay there until the close quarters with the navy blazer started to weird Kurt out.

-

Half an hour later, Kurt was in the audience wearing his jean jacket, watching fifteen navy blazers parade onstage. It seemed like time stopped as Blaine looked out at the crowd, yet no time passed at all before they were singing.

“ _ I walked across, an empty land _ ,” Blaine solo’d, as he always did. “ _ I knew the pathway like the back of my ha-and _ .” 

As he sang, Kurt became more and more sure he was staring right at Kurt. There was no way; the lights were too bright, finding any one person was impossible, but…

They transitioned from Verse to Chorus to Verse to Chorus and Blaine didn't look away. At some point, Rachel's hand came down on Kurt's arm. 

Suddenly, the volume turned up and the Warblers exploded on stage. “ _ And if you have a minute why don't we go, talk about it somewhere only we know? _ ” Blaine sang, with more passion and emotion than Kurt thought he'd ever heard someone sing. He felt enraptured, stuck, and like he didn't want to be anywhere else. The music coursed through him, yanking his heartstrings as Blaine sang. “ _ Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on. _ ”

By the end of the song, Kurt was consciously regulating his breathing and trying to forget how to feel emotions. He stuck it out through some pop song. Then there was a break when the New Directions we're supposed to set up backstage, but Rachel pulled Kurt into a single-stall bathroom.

“I'm freaking out,” Kurt admitted, trying to breath and nodding his head up and down slowly.

“I know.”

“He sang that to me.”

“Kurt.”

“My boyfriend sang me a song at a show choir competition.”

“You're boyfriends?” Rachel asked, but when Kurt gave her a warning look she gave up. “Not important. You need to text him and then pull yourself together.”

“Text him. Right.”

 

_ MAR 10 _

_ That was beautiful. I love you. _

_ 6:11 PM _

 

Rachel waited until it buzzed—they were pulling on their shoes in the green room—to snatch Kurt's phone and hide it in her bag. When he gave her a pleading look, she ordered, “Forget it,” stood up, and left.

Finn gave some speech in the wings. They went onstage and Kurt thought of nothing but the song. The first was a mashup of  _ Fly _ and  _ I Believe I Can Fly _ . That was easy to get through; he made sure he didn't mess up the choreography in the second chorus.

They ended in formation at the front of the stage. The crowd went wild. They liked it.

Then, the band started the intro for  _ Candles _ . Everyone but Kurt and Finn backed up onto the risers, silent. 

Kurt turned to look at his brother, who was already facing him. Finn looked…happy. Like he liked singing, though Glee Club wasn't really about that anymore. A stab of pity found Kurt's chest, and then, “ _ The power lines went out and I am all alone. I don't really care at all not answering my phone. _ ”

Kurt listened as Finn carried on. “ _ All the games you played, the promises you made. _ ” Kurt breathed, and let all his feelings about everything else go. He was here to sing, so he was going to sing with his brother, and they were going to win this goddamned competition.

 

_ + _

Later, Kurt’s memories would be...well, he wouldn't remember much.

 

Someone announced that the New Directions won.

 

Kurt was happy. Really happy.

 

Then they were in the parking lot. Finn walked into the light of a street lamp, there was a  _ bang _ , and Finn fell over.

 

Finn was lying on the ground. Kurt's hands were red. 

 

Rachel was crying. Puck was crying. Mr. Schue was climbing in the back of an ambulance. 

 

They sat on a bus for a long time. Rachel leaned her head on Kurt's shoulder, and neither of them slept.

 

A bunch of people were in Kurt's living room. Carole was talking on the phone and crying. A bunch of people were in Kurt's living room and crying.

 

Then, Kurt woke up.


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt woke up the next morning and checked his phone out of habit. He had 53 texts and 14 missed calls from Blaine. He didn't remember getting his phone back from Rachel. He remembered Finn was dead.

It hit him again, and suddenly every part of Kurt's body hurt, especially his heart. He rolled over in bed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, but they couldn't hide Finn lying on the ground, sputtering and gasping. As Kurt started to cry he realized he really did not want to cry, so he sat up and breathed, quick and deep, crying anyways. Five minutes and 10 tissues later, Kurt's face was dry enough to face the world—or at least his father.

When he went upstairs, Burt was in the kitchen alone. Burt started and tried to say something but Kurt just went over and hugged him. They both started crying.

“It's not-not fair,” Kurt sobbed. “He's so young.”

“I know, kid, I'm sorry,” Burt said.

After a minute, Kurt released himself. “Where’s Carole?”

Burt sighed. “In bed.”

“Make sure you support her,” Kurt said, as the aching in his chest made a little room to worry about his dad's marriage. “I should probably make sure everyone else is okay.”

Kurt got “dressed” in sweats and pushed his hair back with a plastic headband. He headed back upstairs with his truck keys jingling in his pocket. He had already texted Rachel that he was coming over.

“Hey Kurt?”

Kurt paused, halfway through the kitchen and looked over at his dad.

Burt waited a moment, then nodded at him, and then said, “You're taking the truck?”

Kurt was confused. “It's my truck, Dad.”

Burt looked around, like the words he wanted to say were hiding on the walls or ceiling. “You're probably feeling…distressed…”

_ Oh.  _ “I’m not going to do anything stupid,” Kurt insisted, and gave his dad another hug before leaving with promises of location updates.

 

+

Rachel was very upset. 

Her dads were pretty understanding and gave them lots of space. Rachel talked a lot about how much she loved Finn. Kurt talked about how stupid everything was.

Rachel suggested they let Puck come over, so Kurt invited Mercedes and by the time the afternoon rolled around there was a dozen Glee Club members lounging around Rachel's living room watching  _ Friends _ .

Kurt had to sit there, and stew in the warm feelings and genuine but soft laughs. It look a while of that before he started to think things might be ok. 

He looked over at Rachel, who was four people away and leaning against Quinn, who was playing with her hair. Kurt texted Rachel.

 

_ MAR 11 _

_ I want to see Blaine. _

_ 2:14 PM _

 

Rachel checked it so Quinn couldn't see.

 

_ You should. _

_ 2:15 PM _

_ Wait _

_ 2:15 PM _

_ He's pretty upset too. _

_ 2:15 PM _

 

Kurt sent her a screenshot of just a few of the texts Blaine had sent him last night.

* * *

 

_ I don't know what's going on _

_ 1:58 AM _

_ Kurt I love you _

_ 2:01 AM _

_ I'm so scared _

_ 2:01 AM _

_ I'm supposed to pretend like nothing happened _

_ 2:02 AM _

_ I'm so so so sorry Kurt I'm so sorry _

_ 2:02 AM _

_ Are you ok _

_ 2:05 AM _

_ I really hope you're ok I'm so scared _

_ 2:06 AM _

* * *

 

_ Oh no. Is he ok? _

_ 2:16 PM _

_ Yeah I think he just got freaked out. He said he was in another car. _

_ 2:17 PM _

_ Go to him, Juliet _

_ 2:17 PM _

_ Shut up _

_ 2:17 PM _

 

Rachel smiled at him across the room. 

 

+

“Kurt, hi!” Pam Anderson said when she answered the door, so Kurt assumed she didn't know what was going on.

He put on a brave face. “Hi Mrs. Anderson.”

“Come on in. Blaine's just upstairs. Blaine!”

As Kurt kicked off his boots, someone thundered down the stairs. Blaine slid around the corner and pulled Kurt into a fierce hug. 

“Hey,” Kurt greeted awkwardly, avoiding Pam's gaze.

Blaine just retracted himself and said, “Let's go upstairs. Thanks mom.”

“Thanks Mrs. Anderson.”

-

As soon as Blaine's door shut, he threw himself on Kurt again. “I'm so glad you're okay,” He said, then stood back to look up at him. “How are you?”

Kurt breathed. “Angry.”

“I know. I was—”

“We don't have to talk about it,” Kurt said, moving around Blaine to fall onto his bed.

Blaine joined, sitting tentatively on the edge. “I'm sorry.”

Kurt took his hand. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing made sense and everything was sad. So he just looked at Blaine before saying, “Can we just listen to The Roots and cuddle?”

“Of course,” Blaine said, leaning up to press a kiss on Kurt's lips.

So they did that. Kurt made it a couple of songs before a tear landed on Blaine's neck. 

“Hey,” Blaine said, looking up.

Kurt breathed. “Who…” Then, “No. I don't want to know.”

Blaine looked away and muttered, “Who do you think?”

Kurt didn't answer. They were quiet, until the next song started and Kurt said, “This is just the beginning, isn't it?”

“No,” Blaine said, sitting up a little, “I am going to do everything I can to make sure this never happens again.”

So Kurt didn't say anything else, because that's exactly what he was afraid of.

 

+

It wasn't like Kurt didn't trust Blaine to try. He just knew whatever Blaine did would make everything worse.

Because that's how gang fights worked. Eye for an eye, kill for a kill. Even if Blaine thought he was de-escalating the situation, the New Directions could take offense from anything.

But in the same fashion, Kurt couldn't say anything to dissuade him, so he left it. 

Kurt spent Sunday alone, ignoring texts from Rachel and Blaine and Mercedes. He read stupid blogs and listened to sad music and let himself cry when he wanted to. He even let himself regret some things, for a little while, until he remembered that did nothing.

7 am on Monday, Kurt was dressed—for real—and ready to go to school. 

“Are you sure, honey?” Carole asked, after hastily shutting her laptop.

Kurt just nodded and poured himself some coffee.

-

Everything was quiet. The hallways were quieter, even the teachers lectured in low voices. Of course, people stared, but they kept their mouths shut. Or maybe Kurt just wasn't listening.

Everything seemed to stay like that for a while. Quiet. New Directions got excused from class a lot. There were grief counselors and extensions and a memorial. Quiet, slow, sad. Until one day, Puck missed school and a Westerville teen was sent to the ER with a minor stab wound


	13. Chapter 13

Kurt didn’t understand it, but he was angry. And when did he understand anything anyways?

He was angry, and tired, and everything around him seemed too loud and too fast. He was trying to grab something, make sense of anything, but all the New Directions were thanking Puck and no one understood how this was  _ bad _ . He hid in the bathroom because he couldn’t focus in class. Even the smallest sounds set out to give him a headache, and Kurt jumped when people approached him.

People started asking how they could help, but he wouldn’t answer.

There was nothing here that could help him.

 

+

It was early April. It was raining.

_ Knock knock knock. _

Blaine skipped to his front door and pulled it open, immediately stepping back as the water threatened to get him. “Kurt?” He said, struggling to see if it was actually Kurt outside his door. “Come on in.”

“No,” Kurt said, standing steadfastly in the downpour, “I just came…to say goodbye.”

Blaine didn’t understand, but he didn’t like the sound of that. “Just, come inside.”

Kurt didn’t move. He spoke flatly, but loudly over the roar of the weather. “I can’t do this anymore. I hope you understand,” He said, and turned and started away from Blaine’s door.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, leaning as close to the outside as he dared, “Kurt! I’ll come with you!” He called, jumping out into the rain to grab Kurt’s sleeve.

Well, now Kurt was listening. 

Mere inches of water falling between them, Blaine repeated, “I’ll come with you.”

Kurt looked confused. “I thought you gave up on leaving.”

“No,” Blaine promised, feeling the chill settle on his skin. “...Can we talk inside?”

-

Kurt insisted in sitting in Blaine’s chair, back straight, hands to himself while they had this conversation. Blaine was content to take a towel to Kurt’s hair while he explained. “Ever since I found out about Wes, I’ve been thinking about it. My brother owns an apartment building in New Jersey, and he can rent me a room for cheap. I—”

Blaine stopped when Kurt put a hand up for him to stop with the towel. He wrapped it around Kurt’s shoulders instead.

Blaine settled on the edge of the bed and took one of Kurt’s hands in his. “My savings are all in my name. I can transfer out of Dalton no problem.”

Kurt nodded along. “You really thought this through.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “What were you going to do?”

Kurt leaned back and looked away, so Blaine knew he was embarassed. When he looked back he said, “Three bucks, two bags, one me.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “New York City?” He exclaimed, which wasn’t the best move as it prompted Kurt to retract his hands and spin away from Blaine to face the wall. Blaine gently spun the chair until he could see Kurt’s face again. “Kurt, I want you to be safe. I understand that Lima isn’t safe anymore, but neither is New York City by yourself. We can finish high school in Jersey, get full rides to Julliard, and be Broadway legends by 25. Without running out of money.”

Kurt closed his eyes to take a deep breath. Then, “My parents can’t know.”

“Neither can mine,” Blaine said, standing and opening his closet. “They cut my brother off and he hasn’t seen them since.”

“So we go to your brother and we ask to rent…” Kurt said, trailing off and waiting for Blaine to fill in the blank.

“An apartment,” Blaine finished as he rummaged through his things.

“That we live in, together.”

Blaine looked over and smiled as he pulled out a suitcase. “Yeah.”

Kurt pressed one finger to his temple and spun idly on the chair. “Remember when we met 6 months ago?” Then, he sat up and inquired, “What are you doing?”

Blaine tossed some pants into his suitcase. “Packing.”

“We’re seriously doing this?” Kurt asked, genuine and a little bit panicked.

“Of course.”

Kurt threw the towel at him and whined, “Blaine.” He was serious. This was serious.

Discarding the towel, Blaine gave him a warning look before softening and walking over to crouch in front of Kurt. Kurt looked down. Blaine touched a hand to his neck, so he looked up. Blaine’s voice was sweet and soft when he spoke. “Hey. I have no idea if we can live together, but we got through the past few months together, and I just want you to be okay.”

Every fiber of Blaine’s being was pleading Kurt to say yes, subliminally conveying how much he loved him and was willing to commit to this. He was about to start praying when Kurt said, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” He confirmed, and smiled.

 

+

“Hey dads!”

“Hey honey!” Hiram greeted, as Rachel came into the living room. He gestured towards the stairs. “Your friend dropped something off earlier.”

Rachel froze. “Who?”

“Oh,” Hiram started, looking to LeRoy, “Who’s the one who could do way better than that striped penguin?”

LeRoy looked up from his computer. “Kurt.”

“Kurt,” Hiram repeated with a smile.

Rachel was not smiling. “But, Kurt knew I had a meeting with Mr. Schue. Why didn’t he text me?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” LeRoy said, “Why don’t you go upstairs and check?”

 

Later, Rachel would commit the note to memory, but for now she took one look at the sparkling denim jacket on her bed and immediately dialed Puck.

“ _ What? _ ”

“Kurt ran away.”

 

_ I couldn't be a part of it any longer. How many more will you let yourselves lose? _

_ Love, Kurt _

 

+  EPILOGUE  +

 

“Anyways, how was your first day at work?” Kurt crooned across the dinner table at Blaine, once he was finished talking about his new NYADA classes.

“ _ Volunteering _ was scary,” Blaine clarified. “Children are so small.”

“Isn't it a high school?” Kurt asked.

“Well, yeah.” They both laughed. Then Blaine went on. “Yeah, the kids seem great. Ms. Mendoza is super nice.” 

Kurt shook his head. “I can't believe you get to sing all day with kids while I—”

“Sing all day with immature adults?” Blaine finished.

“Hey,” Kurt warned, jokingly. The started in on their dinner with Sufjan Stevens playing in the background. Their Bushwick apartment was warm and lived in, for over two years now. Both their NYADA degrees were underway and going well. 

The years since they'd left home hadn't been perfect, or easy, and both of them had stormed out on multiple occasions. But life was good. They made friends, albeit not well, and usually not for very long. They sort of forgot how to do friendship sometime during high school, they didn't really care to remember when.

But they had each other, and they had Cooper. They were focused, and in love, and happy.

_ Knock knock knock _ .

They looked up at each other. Kurt stood to go answer it, and Blaine stood to follow. They weren't expecting anyone. 

Blaine watched as Kurt checked the peephole. He seemed to stay there for a moment, just looking. Then he stepped back and pulled the door open in an instant.

Blaine's chest seized. “Kurt—”

But it was open, and Rachel Berry was staring in the hallway.

She looked as shocked as Kurt and Blaine. “I found you,” She said, “I finally found you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they all lived happily ever after. :)  
> Thank you for reading! I really like this story, so I hope you enjoyed it too! Drop me a line about your favourite part, or what you want to see next. <3


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